" What is there to say about this novel? I kept on to the end, but I was well aware of how tongue-in-cheek it was, and how many deliberate amalgams it made of bad SyFy movies, post-apocalyptic tales, and selected bits of rock and roll thinking (although Gischler manages to leave out the doom rock and death metal lot, so there's a lack of references to such stalwarts as Black Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult, Hawkwind, or even KISS, in favor of musical references that all logjam in the 1980s-1990s, with one reference to the 2000s.) Joey Armageddon's clubs are Cafe Flesh with a neon overhaul, the Red Czar's operation is Woody Allen's lot from the 1967 Casino Royale holed up in the CNN Center in Atlanta, and the story kicks you out of suspension of disbelief every ten or fifteen minutes while to mull over which reference that was to which movie or novel -- mostly movies, though. The characters occasionally achieve a luxurious single dimension (though this may have been due to the excellent narrator for the audiobook version), the South rises again, sort-of, albeit long enough to shoot itself in the foot, take an arrow to the knee, and get its head bashed in.
There are occasional laugh out loud moments, and there's a fair bit of goofy satire, but it's not really compelling. There is a great moment with the arrival of one side's motorized infantry. mind you, complete with an explanation of exactly why it's been done the way it's done. In the end, though, the summation is, pretty much, "Who cares?" even as Gischler's epilogue provides the seed for a sequel in good old movie fashion. "
— Steven, 1/21/2014